Caligula

which there arched a curve of golden liquid. Rufus picked up his son and carried him to the elephant house.

Bersheba moved uneasily as he entered the barn, shying away and pulling at her shackle. It was only then that he realized he was covered in blood from head to foot. He laid the baby carefully by the cistern and washed himself down with the icy water, shaking spastically from the cold and delayed shock.

But there was one more thing. He knew what he must do.

He had no choice.

He fetched a piece of cloth from the dusty room he and Livia had called home and soaked it in the cistern. Bending down over the baby, he carefully wiped away the dry mucus and blood from its face. It grizzled in irritation and glared at him with piercing blue eyes, then it twitched its tiny flat nose and the glare transformed into something akin to a toothless smile. Yes, a smile. Today, my son, my son, smiled at me for the first time.

His head spun, a palpitation hammered his chest and he collapsed on the mud floor. He curled up in a foetal ball by the tiny wriggling body of his son, lost in a maze of contradiction.

But he had no choice. He had no way to care for the boy.

Steeling himself, he forced himself up, made certain the cloth was well soaked, then very gently placed it over the baby's face.

It wriggled and struggled for breath, tiny limbs jerking as it fought for life.

He almost gave in. His hand moved to within an inch of the cloth before he willed it back.

It had to be done.

'No.'

The voice came from behind him and he turned to find the Emperor standing in the doorway flanked by two of his guards.

'Let the child live.'

Rufus looked at him, dazed.

'Let the child live.' The words were a command.

One of the guards moved towards the baby, but before he could reach it Rufus removed the cloth to reveal a tiny face mottled blue and red and gasping for air.

'Find a nursemaid,' Caligula ordered the guard. 'There must be plenty of them in the palace. If not, seize one from elsewhere.' He turned back to Rufus. 'I have heard of your loss and I am sorry for it.'

Rufus stared at the Emperor. He was confused. Was this a joke? Some kind of trick? He looked around. If it was, where was the audience?

'You are surprised?' Caligula asked, but he was no longer the Caligula who inspired terror. 'You should not be. Today, I am a god, but once I was a man, with all the frailties that make a man weak. I too had a wife. Her name was Junia Claudilla. She was beautiful and kind and she died giving birth to my son. Perhaps, if she had lived.. if my son had lived… things would be different. I would be different.' The voice became sharper again. 'You will receive help to look after the child. If you are not given enough, send word to me. Here, a gift to celebrate his birth. You will call the boy Gaius, of course.'

The remaining Praetorian handed Rufus two large gold coins. Rufus stammered his thanks, but the Emperor waved a hand in dismissal and turned to leave.

'Chaerea.' The word hung in the air between them like wood smoke on a still autumn afternoon. The Emperor turned and looked directly into Rufus's eyes. Caligula the predator was back. Was this insolence? Was it worthy of punishment? It seemed not.

'Cassius Chaerea has overstepped himself,' he said. 'I gave him my friendship, but he has not repaid it with faith.'

'Let me face him in the arena.'

Caligula looked at him quizzically. Should he allow it? It might be interesting. But in the end he shook his head. 'I think not. Who would look after my elephant when he killed you?'

With Cupido's help, Rufus dug a child's grave for Livia beside the mound beneath which Fronto rested, while the boy, Gaius, gurgled in the arms of his new nursemaid, a plump, mousy girl, who said little and expected less from life. She had lost her own baby to red throat disease and was satisfied to have another to hold in its stead.

When they had placed the last sod on Livia's grave he told the gladiator what Chaerea had said about Aemilia, and watched his face set hard as granite.

'We are agreed. Chaerea will die. At my hands or yours, it does not matter which, but he will die and his death will not be quick. I swear it by the old gods. First we must find Aemilia before they kill her.' And there the gladiator halted, because they had no idea where Chaerea held Aemilia. She could be in the Castra Praetorium, but Cupido doubted it. The presence of a female captive would not be a secret for long in a barracks holding five thousand men. But if she was not there, where was she? Chaerea was a rich man, with a dozen houses in the city. She could be in any one. He also had plenty of wealthy friends who would give him the use of an out of the way place where a meeting of like-minded individuals would not attract the wrong kind of attention.

Rufus's mind was still numb, and he struggled to focus on the living rather than the dead. Livia was gone, he understood that, but he knew the full impact had still to come, along with the loneliness it would bring. He would mourn her in his own time. First he had to help Cupido save Aemilia's life. His chest filled to bursting with a cold rage and he vowed he would find her, and avenge Livia at the same time.

But how to find her?

'I think I know someone who might be able to help us.'

Cupido stared at his friend. Could it be that simple?

'You were unwise to involve Claudius in your plans. I would have counselled against it.' Callistus sat behind his desk looking down his long nose at the two men standing side by side in front of it. 'Chaerea may act like a fool, but he does not lack intelligence, or support. He has spies among the opposition faction in the Guard. He was bound to discover any conspiracy against him involving someone so senior, and once he did he was bound to act. His fear of the information I passed to you was overcome by his fear of this greater threat. He blamed your wife,' he nodded to Rufus, then looked at Cupido, 'and he took your sister as a hostage to ensure your cooperation in the other matter he believes is so secret.'

'You know so much about Chaerea's affairs it is difficult to believe you are not part of them,' Cupido said harshly. 'If so, you know where Aemilia is being held.'

Callistus gave a tight smile. 'That is possible, but why should I tell a broken-down gladiator and a rancid animal handler? What have I to gain?'

'Your life.' Cupido's sword appeared a hair's breadth from Callistus's throat. The imperial secretary frowned, but didn't flinch from the blade.

'You owe me a life,' Rufus said, gently pushing the sword to one side. 'I am here to collect it.'

Callistus swallowed and rubbed his throat. 'It is always a pleasure to deal with a reasonable man.'

He described a large white villa, close to the temple of Minerva.

Cupido's brow creased as his mind dissected the information. 'I know that house,' he cried. 'It is on the Argiletum out by Augustus's forum. It belongs to Chaerea's lieutenant, Sabinus. It will be difficult to approach by stealth, but not impossible.'

'No, not impossible,' Callistus agreed. 'But dangerous, for you and your sister. Chaerea has placed six of his men there to guard her — or to kill her, if that should become necessary.'

'Then we have no time to waste here.' Cupido turned to Rufus. 'Meet me in my quarters. Wear your Praetorian uniform — it will disguise you and give us greater authority. We can be there within the hour.'

'Wait!' Callistus said. 'If you go uncloaked you will not get off the Palatine. Chaerea has issued a warrant for your arrest. He has guards on every corner. The only way you will reach the villa is to fly like a bird or burrow underground like a mole.'

Underground? The thought came to both of them simultaneously. Rufus could see it forming in Cupido's eyes, even as the image of the map filled his head. The green line and the red. The one leading from the Palatine to the Velabrum below the Vicus Tuscus, and the other slicing north under the forum and out past the Senate House towards the Argiletum and the white villa.

He felt a thrill of fear. 'The Cloaca.'

Cupido's voice was brittle with excitement. 'Even if it does not take us all the way, it will get us close enough to ensure we reach the villa unmolested. We will need torches and…'